Diary of Jane
by Lyonene
Summary: Spin-off of End of Me, set during the alternate future in 5.04 and explores the relationship between Jane & Castiel. Jane learns about her purpose which causes a rift between her & Dean. Castiel is dealing with being human. Together they try to work through their pain & developing feelings for each other, while dealing with the aftermath of Sam's decision & Dean's anger.
1. Evil Angel

**A/N: **The inspiration for this story is from my other story -my main Supernatural fic- End of Me, specifically the Croatoan Future chapters. You don't have to read End of Me, or those chapters to understand what's going on here, but it would probably help a lot. This is set in the alternate future presented in season 5's episode The End, and explores the relationship between Jane (original character) and Castiel.

* * *

**1: Evil Angel**

**Chuck** had to be kidding. Of all the crazy things to ever come out of his mouth, and his _I'm God_ bit until very recently been at the top of the list, this was by far the craziest. Jane just stared at him, at the notebooks he had presented her with, and tried to keep her hand down because it was itching to slap him silly. "You're not serious."

"It's all in there." He nodded, taking a step backwards because her intent was all over her face. "I don't know whether to say sorry or congratulations."

Dean was staring at Chuck out of tired eyes. "Not in the mood for your shit." He said flatly, glancing down at his wife. They had had a helluva long day, scavenging and fighting their way out of a stupid situation they had gotten themselves stuck in. All he wanted was a shower to wash the guts out of his hair and something to eat before passing out.

"Seriously, just read it. It might come in handy." Chuck smiled crookedly, feeling a bit awkward under their stares. "You know, being God's own experimental love doll." He was teasing her, trying to get her to crack a smile. Dean was a lost cause, the guy didn't smile much anymore.

"Experimental love doll?" Jane echoed, reaching out to take the notebooks. "What the hell?"

"It's pretty nifty really. God really must have liked playing mad scientist because he put you together from several different… uh, things. It's all in there."

Dean was paying attention now, his frown deepening. "What?"

Jane was walking away, taking the notebooks with her. Chuck's visions had been few and far between ever since Sam had said 'yes' in Detroit, agreeing to become the Devil's meat suit but occasionally he still got one. This had been the first in a few months, and given what she had just heard, she was very tempted to throw away the notebooks and pretend she hadn't heard it. This wasn't going to lead anywhere good. She could feel it.

* * *

"**What** the hell are you doing, Castiel?" By now, Jane had perfected what she termed the 'step-mother' tone of voice. It came from living with a bunch of men. When everything had gone down, with Sam, Satan, end of the world as they knew it and the ensuing apocalypse, Castiel had been one of the few angels who had remained. The others who hadn't fled, and there hadn't been many, had either fallen in battle or simply… gone silent, perhaps into hiding. Castiel himself, he seemed to be losing his Heavenly mojo and in response had been sinking into what might have been some weird kind of angel depression. "I really hope you're not drinking that old crap of Bobby's…"

Bobby, who was dead, his house ransacked, and the majority of the valuable stuff was now gone. They had gone in of course, and taken what they could, what they might need, but it had felt wrong. It felt wrong now, seeing the canning jar of homemade liquor. She didn't know why the few remaining jars had been taken; it had no medicinal purposes unless you wanted the flesh stripped from your bones. It had been sitting, until now.

"I am drinking that old crap of Bobby's."

"Jesus…" She sat down beside him, reaching out to take the jar from him and held it up, frowning. "You've already drank half, Cas. I know angel tolerance is the best, but…"

"Nope. No tolerance." Castiel eyeballed her hand, reaching out to take back the jar and missing by quite a bit. "I can imbibe and…" He giggled suddenly, trying again, frowning when Jane poured what was left onto the ground. "Not okay, Janey."

Jane wasn't amused. Only Dean called her that and he hadn't spoken to her since the other night, instead occupying himself with those damn notebooks of Chuck's. She had been intending to read them herself but… he had gotten there first and didn't seem inclined to give them up. "Cassie."

He winced.

Silence reigned as Jane surveyed the scene before them. It wasn't much to look at really, just woods, something they had all become very used too as of late. They were keeping away from overly populated places right now, especially with Satan in the middle of his play. She knew why Castiel was drinking, he was depressed, and she didn't blame him. She didn't know what to say to him either. What did you say to an angel who was becoming less of an angel and more of a monkey?

Being human sucked.

* * *

"**Dean!"**

"Get the hell away from me!"

Groaning, Castiel raised his head off what could have been a pillow. Nope, it was someone's bag… he reached back to rub the stiffness from his neck. That was new. He was becoming stiff… in the limbs, like humans. He had been lying here, perhaps dozing, he felt odd. Tired almost. They were accumulating a little caravan of survivors, which was both good and bad. Good because it meant maybe, just maybe, they had a chance, there was hope. Bad because too many people in a group tended to attract attention and that was something they didn't need.

Frowning, he sat up, ignoring how cold the bed of the pick-up truck he was lying in had gotten. Jane was scrambling away from Dean, who –contrary to his words of telling her to get away- was stalking after her. In his hands was a notebook, Castiel recognized it as one of Chuck's. The prophet had been busy and whatever it was he had been writing down apparently hadn't gone over well.

"Dean, please!" Jane was retreating and pleading at the same time, looking panicky and hurt, her usually pale face splotched with red. "I didn't know!"

"Bullshit!" Dean threw the notebooks at her. "Bullshit Jane! How long have you been-" He stopped, stuffing his fist in his mouth and bit down.

Castiel was on the ground now, regretting it because his head was pounding. Maybe drinking wasn't a vice he needed to take up. Forgetting was great but the aftermath was beginning to hurt, especially since he still had to drink fairly large amounts to get a proper drunk on. "Let's calm down." He said, his already raspy voice coming out like shards of broken glass had taken residence in his throat.

"You knew about her!" Dean whirled on him, apparently looking for an outlet to his anger. "You knew she was some sort of… a frickin' evil angel! That's why you've been… whatever the hell it is you do with her!"

"What?"

"Her dreams, you always showed up in her damn dreams, now I know why!"

"Dean, it's not like that, I swear-"

"Shut up, Jane!"

Castiel went reeling backwards when Dean punched him. It had hurt.

"Dean!" Jane was aware that a crowd was forming around them, eyeballing them all curiously. Dean was technically the de facto leader of their motley group and him losing it like this probably wasn't boosting confidence levels. "Stop it!"

He halted his advancing of Castiel, taking deep breaths as he regarded her, calming himself down. "Stay away from me, Jane." He said finally, flatly.

Cue the waterworks. She had done so well, suppressing them, but him saying that… it cut right through her. "Dean…"

"I've got to think. I can't do that with you around." His face scrunched up in thought. "Hell, maybe I never could."


	2. Untrustworthy

**A/N: **I have messed up some things from The End episode, like apparently when Bobby dies and the picture of him and Dean and the rest at Camp C, sorry!

**2: Untrustworthy**

* * *

It was a week before Dean finally spoke to her again. They had been traveling almost non-stop it seemed, and she had been riding with Chuck. He had managed to steal car some time ago but the way it clunked, she was sure it would go at any given moment. They just didn't have the time, or tools, to stop and fix it properly.

She had no idea where they were, she had stopped looking at maps a long time ago. She did know that they avoided what had been major cities, most of them were in panic as people scrambled to make sense of what was going on, still believing they could somehow control the "new virus" that had come on the scene.

She was sitting on the outskirts of the little camp the group had assembled, listening as the other debated on whether or not it would be worth it for some of them to return to one of the little towns they had passed by. They were running low on basic supplies and she was probably not the only one who was tired of eating canned baked beans. Dean had walked over to stand in front of her, his expression strangely calm. She had hoped that meant he was done ignoring her and ready to… well, not forgive her because as far as she was concerned, she hadn't done anything wrong. She was still confused about this entire God thing. Chuck had explained it as best as he was able but… still, it was a lot to wrap her head around.

"So far, damn near everything from Heaven, or that has to do with _God_ has been nothing but trouble for me." He said flatly. "And it seems that you aren't any different, Jane."

"Dean-" She bit her lip when he held up a hand for silence.

"Castiel swears up and down nobody knew about you, that you really are God's last piece of handiwork. And that just makes it worse because so far, God hasn't done much besides keep dragging us back to suffer." He sighed, eyes squinting as he tilted his head back to look up towards the sun. "How long have you known?"

"I didn't."

"I find that hard to believe Jane. Just like I find it hard to believe you didn't know you can't be possessed."

"I can't?" That was news to her. Maybe Chuck hadn't told her everything.

He chuckled humorlessly. "You can stop Jane, I know now. No point in keeping up with the lies."

"Dean, I'm not-"

"You can stay. You're useful to me still. But…" He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself and Jane felt her stomach clench. "As far as I'm concerned, we're done."

"No, Dean, that's-"

"Not up for debate. Maybe time will change things but right now… with everything going on, and with everything that's happened, I just can't do it. I've spent years running from Heaven and it's bitches only to find out that you're one of them and you've been here all this time."

"Exactly!" She was standing at this point, moving until she was directly before him. "I _have_ been here all this time, Dean, at your _side_. I've been fighting with you, not against you."

"Maybe. Or this is some jacked up game and I just don't know the rules yet."

* * *

"**What** are you doing now, Cas?"

Castiel looked up from the plot of land he was considering, flashing Jane a grin. He watched as she picked her way towards him, noting the duct taped repaired, circular laundry basket on her hip. They had been here, at Camp Chitaqua for about a year now and even with the world slipping deeper into its hell in a hand basket state, they were somehow surviving. Apparently it had been a place Bobby had brought Dean at the beginning of all this, before he had been murdered. "I'm thinking of growing another section here."

Jane rolled her eyes, shifting the basket, which was full of freshly washed laundry, to her other hip. Everyone here pitched in. if you couldn't be useful then you were tossed out on your ass. Dean had made it clear time and again that he wasn't housing, feeding, or protecting anyone who didn't earn their keep and then some. She had been removed from 'active' duty and was usually kept here at the compound. Whenever new people were brought in, she was there for their processing to 'read' them and she was sent around the perimeter of the camp at regular hours to scan for potential threats, but mainly her job duties were glorified housewife for everyone.

Okay, technically, she shared these duties with everyone else, but nobody else was kept 'grounded' the way she was. Insult to injury had been when Dean had announced she was lead 'housekeeper' and medicine woman –their doctor had died- which meant she was in charge of making people do what they should have done to begin with. Pick up after themselves, keep their persons clean (lice and body odor would kill her eventually), and tend to wounds.

Chuck had found himself in a similar position, he was in charge of inventory and passing everything out. that was a job Jane was quite pleased she didn't have to deal with because there was nothing quite like having a group of people demanding for stuff ahead of schedule.

Castiel, on the other hand, was a floater of sorts. He did whatever Dean asked him to and in his spare time grew weed and was fashioning himself as quite a… ho. Though he didn't quite use that term. He was becoming human, rapidly, and had taken an interest in mortal pleasures. Jane suspected it was his way of dealing.

"Of all the things we're trying to grow, you succeed with a plant we can't eat."

"Why would you want to eat it?" He took the basket from her, leading the way towards the chains that had been strung up to hang laundry from. "It's much better when smoked." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, taking note of the pinched look on her face, it was becoming usual for her. He didn't think he liked it. "Been talking to Dean, haven't you?"

"Was it that obvious?"

"You always have this 'look' when you do."

"He wanted to run some things by me, the usual."

Castile let it drop. Jane had been waiting a year now for Dean to change his mind about her and so far, the only thing Dean had done was grow more distant. A lot of it had to do with Lucifer, or at least that was what Castiel was assuming. It seemed like every day they were hearing more and more about Satan and his excursions in Sam's body, and it was driving Dean further over the edge. He sat the basket down once they had reached the chain, quietly helping her to string up the laundry.

Jane didn't bother breaking the silence, working alongside him in amicable peace and quiet. It was hard, sometimes, remembering that life hadn't always been this messed up. A few years ago she was riding around with her boys, trying to save the world, and fairly crazy in love. Now she was a mother-hen to people she didn't know, her husband didn't care about her outside of her ability to be useful, and the world as they knew it was on its last leg. If this was the purpose God had intended her for, something was majorly messed up.

"Finished." Cas announced once the last shirt had been strung up, stepping back to survey their work. He could remember popping in on her once, long ago, when she had hanging up laundry for herself and Bobby. It had confused him at the time. It confused him now because it was a tedious task and he didn't understand why she accepted being everyone's drudge. "You know, you don't have to do all this menial labor. Dean would give you something else to do if you asked him."

"No, he wouldn't. He doesn't trust me. He thinks I'm Heaven's bitch or something."

"You're his bitch."

"Gee, thanks Castiel."


	3. Sad and Awkward

**3: Sad and Awkward**

"**It **has been an extremely long day."

"It has."

"You're high."

"That too." Castiel grinned across the rickety table at Jane, ignoring the pinched look on her face. He knew she didn't overly have a problem with his continuous state of stoned, it was just her normal look these days. "You should give it a try, you'd probably feel… less…"

"Bitchy?" She suggested dryly, the corner of her mouth curving up into what could have been a smile. "That's what this is for." She gestured to the bottle of what have once been some cheap brand of whiskey before them. Whiskey, alcohol, was something they never seemed to run out of, water was the issue. But alcohol… no, and tonight was definitely a drinking night. Dean and his… current flavor… she had seen them, he had seen her seeing them, and it had been… bad. For her at least. She was God's own fool, built for one man apparently, and now… now she felt like she was without purpose. Outside of being Dean's little personal psychic metal detector. Oh, and camp house mother, couldn't forget that.

"My tolerance for weed is higher than liquor."

"Mine too."

* * *

"**Tell** me the truth, what's it like being human?"

Castiel wasn't drunk, but he was feeling pretty good. He was buzzing, at that point when things felt nice, his head was a bit funny, but he could walk a nearly straight line. Jane seemed to be at that point to, but it made her chatty. He had worried about drinking with her, worried that alcohol would trigger the sadness he knew she carried. "The same as it is for you."

"You know what I mean." She rolled onto her side, they had moved onto her bed, laying on their backs and just talking. It was nice, it was different, but nice, and it did help to ease the loneliness that had plagued her for near two years now. Jane looked down at him, propping her head in the palm of her hand, elbow on the mattress. "C'mon Cas, please?"

Sighing, he mimicked his position. "I gave up sex for this?" He joked, regretting the quip as soon as it passed his lips. "I'm sorry Jane, that was uncalled for."

She shrugged one shoulder, rolling away from him until he was presented with her back. "It's fine."

It wasn't fine, and he didn't know why it slipped. Sighing, Castiel reached out, placing a tentative hand on her side. He felt her tense and frowned, looking along her body, everything was tense. He knew she and Dean hadn't been intimate since before finding out about her not entirely 'normal human' status, that had been… quite a long time ago. He also knew that while she may have gotten pushed away a time or two, nobody laid a finger on her. Dean might not have loved her anymore, but he wouldn't tolerate anyone laying a hand on her. Out of a lingering sense of loyalty, or maybe some sort of buried regret, or perhaps just because she was his mind detector, he kept things on a tight leash when it came to her.

Idly, Cas wondered what Dean would think about him being here. In bed, with her. Maybe it would be best not to mention it, ever. Maybe it would be best if he just vacated now, saved them both some misery.

Somewhat drunk Castiel wasn't very good at obeying common sense, and he bent down until his lips hovered over the shell of her ear. "Jane?"

"It's fine, Cas."

She was crying and he felt the guilt ratchet up a few more notches. "It's not fine, I shouldn't have…" He gripped her tighter, rolling her onto her back while moving to hover over her. "I shouldn't have said it, and I apologize." It seemed so minor, making that joke but he realized, as he stared down at her, that Jane didn't spend a lot of time with anyone. Not outside of the people she scanned, or when Dean pulled her in for one of his little chats. He had done more than hurt her feelings… if this was what it was like to be human, it sucked. He didn't want to sympathize, or empathize… it hurt.

"I am sorry." He repeated, hesitantly reaching out to brush the tips of his calloused fingers down along her cheeks, catching the wetness from her tears.

Jane wasn't even sure why she was crying, why she felt… torn. He had meant it as a joke, a defensive one perhaps, but a joke. It had cut something in her, and it hurt. Castiel was her friend, perhaps her only friend outside of Chuck. Most people learned quickly what she was, or wasn't, and tended to give her a wide berth. Maybe it was just being a sad drunk or something, she'd have to curb her drinking with others, not that she did it very often anyways. "I'm a mess." She whispered finally.

"A hot one." He agreed, instantly biting his tongue. Way to put his foot in it, again. He waited for her to start crying again, a bit surprised when she smiled somewhat. His head tilted to the side curiously. "You confuse me sometimes…"

"You're drunk, everything is confusing."

"Buzzed." He corrected softly. "And so are you."

She nodded in agreement, brows furrowing as she realized he was now basically sitting on her, straddling her, and tensed all over again. Jane hadn't thought about being in such a position with anyone in quite a long time. She hadn't felt any of those urges for anyone except Dean, she had always supposed it was just a side-effect of being custom designed for his stupid ass. "Cas, maybe we should call it a night." Before this passed onto from embarrassing into awkward.

He nodded, realizing his hands were caressing her arms and cleared his throat. "You're… you're probably right." This was Jane. Sweet, sad Jane. Not one of his… women. "I should go."

"Yeah… so…" Jane shifted awkwardly. "Maybe you should get off of me?"


	4. Nurse Jane

**4: Nurse Jane**

"I heard you were with Jane pretty late last night."

Castiel inwardly groaned, raising a hand to shield his face from the mid-day sun beating down on him. He really wished he was high right now, it would make the forthcoming conversation much easier. Things between him and Dean had been… tense, putting it mildly. It was hard being human, losing friends, losing those he cared about… Sam came to mind, and Cas really hated being human because he could feel a lump in his throat. "I was." He said finally, coughing to clear away the hoarseness.

"Have an interesting visit?"

"Dean… is this pertinent to what we're doing?" Which was scavenging supplies.

"Just making friendly chat, Cas." Dean wasn't looking at the former angel, busy overturning a pile of garbage with a stick, eyeballing its contents for anything useful. "That is my wife you're getting friendly with."

"You haven't acknowledged her as your wife in quite some time."

"Look, there's a code, Cas." Dean sounded irritated and his ears were turning red. "Bros before hoes, does that mean anything to you?"

"Bros before… Jane is _not_ a hoe."

Dean finally looked at Castiel, eyes narrowing slightly.

* * *

"**Castiel?** You know, it does make sense."

Jane didn't want to know who had told Dean about Cas being here last night, she might try killing them. "Let the door hit you on the way out, Winchester." She said coldly, returning to boxes she was sorting. She could have done this outside, or in the main hall, and commandeered people to help, but she was hoping to avoid everyone today. Mostly Dean. And Castiel. Just to avoid awkwardness and unneeded heartache.

She was shifting through the stuff that had been brought from the earlier scavenging mission, and had been doing so peacefully, until now. She was aware he hadn't moved from his position leaning in her open door but Jane wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of openly paying him attention.

"He was always showing up in your dreams…"

"Oh you son of a-" Jane whirled, hand raised, and blinked when Dean stepped forward, right into the blow. It hurt her more than it hurt him and she shook her hand, trying to shake out the sting. "Get out."

"I thought you couldn't move onto anyone else, your programming wouldn't allow it."

"You _still_ think I'm a… a fricking robot?!" Honestly, he had no idea what Dean thought of her anymore, he just didn't want to be with her, but he wanted to use her, like he used many others. "I'm not… I'm not a robot, or some drone of Heaven's. Regardless of what you seem to think, I'm human."

He stared at her, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "So what do we have?" He nodded at the supplies scattered about her tiny cabin.

His sudden change nearly gave Jane whiplash and she turned to survey the mess, willing herself to go blank, to empty out all those emotions. Programming… if only, she'd program herself to not love him anymore.

* * *

"**Do** I dare ask?"

"No… please don't. For the love of all that's holy, please don't." Chuck was looking anywhere but at Jane, his entire face flushed with embarrassment. He had been helping Castiel and some of the others clear out more space at the far end of the encampment. There was talk of building more fortification back that way, or trying to grow something besides Cas' weed. All Chuck knew was after a long day of sweating and fighting back evil plants, he was itchy, had a rash sent by Satan himself, and according to Jane it was poison ivy. "Please, tell me we have something for it?"

Jane studied Chuck's bare arm, frowning slightly. "Chuck… where else has this spread?" She asked cautiously. He was standing in her cabin, wearing nothing but pants and shoes, and she could already see some patches springing up along his chest. "You haven't uh… handled… anything delicate have you?" His palms were covered in the shit.

"Why? Will it… Christ… Jane, help!" He was already trying not to itch everywhere he could, his junk included. Prior to the apocalypse, he had led a fairly sheltered life, up until the Winchester's had waltzed in. Poison ivy was not something he had ever had to contend with.

"Let me… let me get someone to help… how many others have this?"

"I don't know, there were only a couple of us."

"Yeah… I'm going to get someone to start the heater, you and whoever else has this is going to want a shower… and maybe some calamine lotion, if we have any." She edged towards the door, shooing him out as well. "If it's poison ivy, or oak, or sumac, then it's the oil and I don't want it in my place so get the hell out." Chuck hadn't done anything or touched anything so she was pretty sure everything was good, she was still going to come back and scrub everything down. Once Chuck was outside, she headed off towards the supply bunker. She really, really hoped someone had snatched up a couple bottles of that anti-itch stuff or else they were going to have some really pissy people walking around, scratching their junk.

"Jane!"

She heard Castiel, but kept on walking. One, if he wanted to recount last night for her, she didn't want too. Two, if he had poison on his balls, she didn't want to know. "Hi." She greeted without looking when he fell in step beside her. "If you have poison ivy, I'm already working on it."

"I'm fine, I tried warning Chuck but…" He shrugged, not that she seen it. "Listen, about-"

"No, we're not talking about it and I don't have the time. I need to get Chuck's itching under control and his crap needs burned. I'm not scrubbing it clean and I don't need him spreading it about. Tomorrow, if you guys go back down there, make sure they all know what poison ivy looks like."

"Are you in nurse Jane mode?"

"Cas," She stopped and turned to stare at him, gray eyes guarded. "seriously, what do you want?"

He wasn't surprised by her hostility, or how tense and hard she seemed. "Are you upset because you're busy or because of last night?"

"Last night was me being over-emotional from drinking and an awkward position. That's it."

"If that is it, then why are you… cold with me?" He watched curiously as her gaze darted away from him and turned to follow where she was now looking. Dean was standing outside the supply bunker, staring down at them. "Let me guess, he's been by to see you today?"

"I've got to go." Jane started walking away only to let out an exasperated sigh when he reached out and grabbed her hand, effectively stopping her. "Castiel," She kept her eyes trained on the ground, spotting his shoes stepping into her direct line of vision. "I really don't want to deal with him again… it-" Hurt, not that she wanted to admit it. "Please." She felt his fingers beneath her jaw and slowly raised her head. "Cas, please, I need to-"

He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers.

Jane let out a ragged sigh, closing her eyes.


	5. Being Human

**5: Being Human**

"**How** many?"

"At least a dozen." Jane said after a moment, opening her eyes and blinked as the late afternoon sun nearly blinded her. She felt like crap, her stomach was in knots and behind her temples was pounding. What Pamela had taught her all those years ago had remained with her, but it seemed she could no longer avoid or lessen the ill side effects that came with using her psychic abilities. Or maybe it was just the fact that evil always tended to heavily saturate these areas Dean tended to bring them to, their raiding parties.

"Any major players?"

"Not that I could tell."

"Hmm." Dean looked around at the men he had brought, considering them. "All right, I want a few taken alive, for interrogation."

"Dean…"

"You will be there for it Jane, I might need you."

"Dean-"

"You heard me."

* * *

**Jane** could remember when Dean had been taken by Castiel and Uriel to interrogate Alistair. It had been right after Pam had died. She remembered everything he had been through, what the angels had made him do, and how that had turned out for everyone. Now, it seemed like Dean was putting all those old skills to use again, and he enjoyed it. Most of the time, there wasn't a point in saving people, demons rode them hard and put them away wet, but Jane found making what consciousness remained suffer even more to be nightmare inducing.

Tonight was going to be one of those nights.

She was stumbling down the dark path to her cabin, trying not to cry, or throw up. Bodies would be burned in a few hours and she knew that scent would linger around the camp for several days afterwards. Even after all this time, she was still not used to that stench, and she prayed she never was. It would represent something lost in her, broken, if she were. She liked to think she retained some humanity.

Jane took a few more steps and what could only be describe as a scent wall of burning weed hit her. This wasn't the normal puffing on a rolled joint odor but full on 'someone's having a serious party' wall. Curious, she followed the scent and smoke around and away from her cabin, down towards Castiel's little gardens. She came to a halt when she seen him, standing silhouetted in the blaze, and wondered if he had finally built up a resistance and this was his new method of obtaining his high.

"It doesn't get any easier, does it?"

She wasn't surprised that he had spoken first, or that he probably knew it was her lurking. While he was more or less human, he still possessed some minor aspects of his former angelhood. "What doesn't?"

"Being human."

"Cas, this was never meant to be the human experience." At least she didn't think so, surely not even the absentee God had meant for shit to get like this. If he had, then he was far worse than Lucifer in her book. At least Satan was honest about his evil intentions. She picked her way towards him, pulling her sweatshirt up over her mouth to attempt warding off the smoke inhalation. "But to answer your question, no it doesn't."

"So it'll always suck this bad? Hurt this much?" Each word from his mouth seemed to get more desperate than the last.

"Yes." She whispered, not bothering to look at him, instead staring into the fire that was his weed patch, literally.

"I don't want to be human, Jane."

His voice had broken and Jane reluctantly turned to face him. He was bruised and bloody still from the raid, and pale beneath all of that, with tears paving tracks through the grime. "Cas…"

"I don't _want_ to be _human_, anything is better than this."

What did she say to that? She actually agreed with him, and trying to comfort him and lie, say it wasn't all that bad seemed dishonest to them both. It was that bad, it sucked, and every day just got harder. "Dead could be better."

"Dead would be infinitely better." He snorted, using his hand to wipe at his face. It only made things worse.

Sighing, she plopped down on the ground, knowing the fire had to be watched until it had died down. That and getting high was better than going to sleep and dreaming of the horrors she had seen tonight. "Come on, Castiel." She patted the space beside her and watched as he dropped as well.

"How do you manage it?" He sat shoulder to shoulder with her, knees drawn up against his chest, and staring straight ahead.

"Quite poorly actually. I drink a lot."

"Doesn't help, does it?"

"Does weed and casual sex?"

"Sometimes."

* * *

"**You** should have had this checked out sooner." It was stifling hot in the cabin. Bodies were burning now and once that stench had overpowered the remnants of the burnt weed, Jane had retreated and Castiel had followed. She had shut all the windows and stuffed rags under the doors in an attempt to salvage her nose and her stomach. Their already iffy power was currently out and she was trying to tend a gash just behind his ear as best she could with hurricane lamps. "If it gets infected, there's no one to blame but yourself."

"It barely hurt."

"Yeah, I bet. You need stitches but I'm going to use what's left of my glue."

"Gross." He deadpanned, twitching when Jane poked the area. Castiel lapsed into silence as Jane finished with his head and just stared across the dimly lit room.

"Shirt."

Wordlessly, he peeled it off. Even though the air was fairly warm, it still felt pleasant against his sweat soaked skin. Even pleasanter was the sudden, unexpected cool, wet cloth being run along his shoulders and he let his head fall forward as she ran it up along the back of his neck. "You don't have-"

"Just shut up." Jane said quietly. "Sometimes I like to pretend I'm needed, even if for mundane things."

"I need you."

"I know."

"You need me."

She knew that too.

Silence reigned again, and this time Castiel just literally sat back and enjoyed the attention. He was used to being touched, massaged, bathed, and other pleasantries, he was no stranger to women. He was, however, not used to this in regards to being genuinely cared for. Jane knew him, she had known him as an angel and now as a man and she actually cared for him. He wasn't some exotic, supernatural lover to her, but a friend. Perhaps her only one these days, and his blue eyes searched hers when she moved to stand in front of him. She was always so sad, and he couldn't remember the last time he had seen those gray eyes sparkle with true happiness, her lips curve in a real smile.

He caught her gently, pulling her down until she finally, with obvious reluctance, was sitting sideways on his lap. When she brought the cloth to his face, he closed his eyes and let her wash him. "Are you satisfied with my hygiene now?" He asked when she was done.

"For now. Do you feel any better?"

"Less high." He studied her thoughtfully. She had been pretty good and blazed for awhile, but when the bodies had started burning, all the fun buzzing had gone to hell. Just thinking about it made him want to crawl back into that pit of despair that he had only just pulled himself out of. It was still there, lurking, waiting, ready to welcome him back and this, Jane, was all a temporary reprieve.

Jane couldn't stand his scrutiny and looked anywhere but at him. The wash cloth dangled limply from her hand, the sleeves of her shirt were rolled up, and the cabin was becoming unbearably warm. It was still better than breathing in all that noxious fumes. When she felt his rough, calloused palm against the small of her back, against bare skin, she jumped. "Castiel, you- that feels really good." She had no idea what he was doing, but that knot had been bothering her for awhile.

He smiled slightly, lips pressed together and gently guided her until she was sitting with her back to him, butt perched on his knees, and leaning forward over the table. It all went very slowly, and he could feel her tensing, her hesitance. "May I?" He asked quietly, tugging upwards at the sides of her shirt.

Jane was very quiet, very still for a long moment and he was sure she was going to boot him out now. The breath he hadn't realized he was holding slipped out slowly when she finally nodded and he began pulling the shirt up, over her head. He could count ribs, she was bony, and made a mental note to start making her eat better. He ran his hands upwards, coming to a momentary halt at the strap of her bra before continuing upward. This would have worked better with lotion, or her laying down, but that would have been way beyond inappropriate. This was probably already inappropriate but it was… nice, taking care of her for a change, instead of the other way around.

A wave of protectiveness cascaded in him, and it took a few to identify it, and Castiel smiled slightly. It was darkly amusing actually, feeling protective of her when he had been Dean's angel, and now look at who had damaged her. Dean. He had totally fucked up being an angel. Maybe being human was all he was suitable for.

By the time he was finished, she seemed more relaxed. She had folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them. "Jane?" It wasn't all that surprising that she didn't answer, she was asleep.

Being human sucked but not all of it was bad. Sometimes, some people and some moments made it… almost… okay.


	6. Caring Sucks

**6: Caring Sucks**

"**What's** this?"

"Food." Castiel said flatly, wondering why he was stating the obvious. Jane had been cooped up in the main hall doing inventory for days now, making lists of what they desperately needed, which was a lot. She hadn't been eating regularly, he knew because Chuck had been an eyeball on her while also helping with the inventory. Chuck hadn't been allowed back down by the weeds since he was prone to poison ivy and potentially spreading it. Jane had flat out said she wasn't treating that again, apparently it hadn't been pleasant for anyone involved. "You need to eat."

"Not hungry." She sighed, shoving another half-empty tote away from her and reaching up to rub her temples, eyes fastened on the tin plate of what looked like burnt Spam and pork 'n beans. All a part of a balanced diet. "I would kill for fresh milk."

At that, he blinked, putting the plate down in front of her before pulling out a dangerously wobbly chair and sitting beside her. "You have to eat something, Jane. I can count your ribs."

"How-" She bit her lower lip, remembering he had seen just how bony she was becoming. "If I eat, will you get off my ass?"

"If that's what you really want."

She couldn't be sure, but it looked like there was a bit of an impish twinkle in his blue eyes and she felt the corner of her mouth rising in a grudging half-smile. "If you're going to keep riding me you might as well pull my hair while you're back there." She had seen that phrase, or something akin to it, on a bumper sticker once and she had no idea why it came to mind now, or why she was blurting it out. "Oh Jesus…"

There was a definite twinkle and Castiel was trying not to, and failing, grin.

"Jesus take me now." She muttered, shifting away from him and focusing on the food she definitely did not want, her cheeks flaming. She would eat it, just so she didn't have to look or talk to him. "When I'm done, if you're still here, I'm stabbing you with this fork."

It was plastic, he wasn't overly worried.

* * *

"**Chuck** is taking over inventory."

"You woke me up for this?" Jane yawned, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she stared at Dean from her place in her bed. "It's…" She had no idea how to tell the time but given the relative darkness outside the windows, she was guessing a few hours before sun-up.

"Now's as good a time as any."

Jane focused on Dean, beginning to frown. "You've been drinking, Winchester."

"That I have, Mrs. Winchester."

He hadn't acknowledged her as Mrs. in quite some time, so Jane wasn't sure how to feel about it being said now. Him being drunk, or close too, probably had something to do with it. "Go to bed, Dean." She said finally, not in the mood for the games, or heartbreak. She wasn't going to bother asking why he was putting Chuck in charge of the supplies, or what she'd be doing from here on out, she really didn't care. "_Your_ bed." She added harshly when he kicked off his scuffed, leather boots.

"Technically, that is my bed." He informed her, ignoring her sputtering as he next peeled off his flannel top. "What's mine is yours, yours is mine…"

Jane could only stare as he undressed, really wishing she wasn't gawking. 'Programming' or not, Dean was gorgeous, an asshole, but gorgeous. "Get out." She ordered, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for her sawed off. He was not going to toy with her, and if he thought she was going to have sex with him, after all the heartache he had put her through, not to mention the other women he had been with… he was out of his mind. The thought of him with other women… her heart was doing some seriously messed up things in her chest.

"Shut up, I'm just crashing here." He had even left his boxers on, just for her. "Scoot over, Jane."

"No, the bed is all yours, Winchester." She was getting up, grunting when she was suddenly back down and glared at him.

"Stay." He was already slipping under the sheet with her, rolling her until she was facing the wall and moved until he was spooning her from behind.

Jane was stiff as a board, everything in her tense, and she gritted her teeth when she felt his face in her hair. "You're going to regret this when you sober up." She whispered harshly.

"Probably." He agreed with a yawn. "But I figure you might keep the nightmares away." Nightmares plagued him, had ever since he had found out about Sam saying yes to Lucifer. "Always did before."

"I'm not a security blanket, Dean."

"That's not what God says, so shut up and let me get some damn sleep."

* * *

**Of** all the people Castiel might've expected to answer Jane's door, besides Jane, Dean was not one of them. He had knocked and waited patiently, heard some muttering and then a nearly naked Dean was right there.

"What the hell do you want, Cas?" Dean growled, obviously not awake enough for this. His bloodshot eyes ran over the former angel until they came to a halt on the wrapped plate in his hand. "Seriously, wining and dining her now? I thought we had this talk."

"I-"

"Dean, leave him alone." Jane appeared, fully dressed, from behind Dean and shoved at him, forcing him to step aside.

"Bit wrong, having the boyfriend visit while the husband is around." Dean muttered, stepping back into the cabin.

"Shut the hell up, Winchester." She snarled, shoving him again before stepping aside, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Jane, if…" Castiel wasn't sure what to say, or where he would begin. "If you and-"

"No." She shook her head firmly, her face back to its now normal pinched look. "Trust me, it wasn't anything like that. Jackass in there got drunk and decided he wanted someone to keep his night terrors away." Because apparently, that was one of the special perks or something of being custom-designed for someone, she worked as a night light.

"Did he…?" How did he finish that one without sounding overly protective or even offensive? Dean was, had been, sort of still was, his friend, it was all complicated and he was getting a headache. "Never mind, here." He held out the plate, bringing her food so she ate regularly was becoming a thing of his, and today he regretted caring. He shouldn't care, she was his friend but she was also a grown woman, she could fend for herself.

"Cas…" Jane took the plate, reaching out with her free hand, only to be shrugged off.

"I've got stuff to do, Jane. I'll see you later." He was already walking off, unsure why he was bothered so much by this. Why did he even care? Caring sucked.


	7. Taken Care Of

**7: Taken Care Of**

The Croatoan virus was brilliant, evil as hell, but brilliant. Once infection had set in and the virus had taken over, its victims were supercharged on murderous rage and would attack and kill anything on sight. What was left of world governments had taken to quarantining off infected areas, and in extreme measures, bombing some of these areas. Needless to say, there were more quarantined spots in the world than 'safe' zones.

It was also a death sentence. There was no cure and anyone who became infected, at least in Dean's group, was put down. Like a dog. To his credit, Dean was generally discreet about it, and made it quick, and usually, the person about to die was oblivious right to the end. Given that Jane was privy to the majority of Dean's dirty laundry, she knew exactly what was going to happen to her.

The group that had gone out had been small, and nobody but her and Dean seemed to realize she had been infected. He had gone stone faced, eyes lingering on the wound she was attempting to hide. Not from him, but from the others, to keep panic down. She met his gaze, unsure what she was feeling, besides resigned.

The feeling of resigned turned into something peaceful on the return to the compound. The idea of death didn't scare her, not like it did others. She was tired, and lonely, and honestly, she was ready for whatever came next. Even Hell would not top her life now.

"You alright?"

Her thoughts were pulled from the morbid downward spiral by Castiel, and she realized that there were aspects of her life she would miss. Jane felt something like regret, sadness, and turned from her place upfront with Dean to meet his concerned stare. "I'm fine."

"You seem… there's something different." He was frowning.

He had lost his angel mojo, but sometimes, pulled something out of his ass. She smiled wanly, maybe there was hope for him yet. "I'm tired."

"Don't worry about her, Cas." Dean ordered, eyes on the road, his mouth a grim line. "She'll be taken care of."

Jane turned back around, staring out the windshield. Taken care of…

* * *

"**How** long?"

"It's been three hours." Jane said quietly, watching Dean pace the floor of his own cabin, hands folded in her lap.

"So any time now." Incubation time was short, three or four hours, four was tops. He eyeballed her, then the wound she had unwrapped. She had cleaned it, he hadn't seen the point, but it didn't look all that bad. "Bite?"

She nodded.

Sighing, he began screwing the silencer onto his gun. "For what it's worth, Jane, this is… not how I wanted things to go. Even… even if you're not totally human, and God's… whatever, this wasn't…"

Not human. He still thought she wasn't human. Jane hung her head to hide the crooked grimace that unwillingly spread across her lips, closing her eyes. She could feel a hot tear slipping past her lid. If she wasn't human, then God had played one hell of a screw over on her. Not human, but with all the emotional baggage. She was calling bullshit.

"Look away, Jane."

Her response was to raise her head, tears and all on display, and firmly meet his stare.

"Goddamn you, _look away_."

She did not want too, she didn't, but she did. She had always obeyed that stupid growling, commanding tone and sheer force of habit made her do it now.

"Stop!"

"Get the hell out, Cas!"

Jane was pulled out of the chair she was sitting in and enveloped in arms, being turned away from Dean, and she closed her eyes. Even without Dean announcing the name, or recognizing the voice, she would know that scent anywhere. Weed, earth, and beneath those was sweat, and it had to be some leftover angel pheromones or something but it wasn't reeking body odor, just… something that wasn't off putting. Her mind was all over the place, she was analyzing body odor when she should have been terrified about dying.

"She's not infected."

"There's no way for you to know that, you're not an angel anymore."

"It's _Jane_." Castiel growled, still keeping himself between the gun and Jane. "She's immune to being possessed, it is possible she is immune to this as well." He took a real good look at Dean and what he seen there, he couldn't fathom it, couldn't wrap his mind around it. "You knew that." He whispered. "You already… you already figured she might be." He could feel Jane tensing in his arms and felt a wave of guilt and sadness wash over him, knowing she still loved her jackass husband, and this was going to hurt her far worse than anything else.

"_Might be_, Castiel." Dean stressed, tempted to just shoot them both. "I'm not going to risk everyone because she might be."

"It's been three hours, and she still hasn't turned."

"They always do at four."

"I'll watch her and if she does," He hesitated for a moment. "If she does, I'll… I'll handle it."

Dean's nostrils flared as he considered that. "Fine." He hissed after a long moment. "You… watch her, here. If she shows the signs, you put her down. If you don't, I'll do it myself, and you with her."

Castiel simply nodded, certain he felt his shirt becoming damp. Jane was crying, and he felt another jolt of pain. Caring did suck, especially right now. He would have given anything to still be an angel, and away from this.

"I'll be outside." Dean was already heading for the door. He opened it and blinked down at the woman standing there, frowning.

"We had a… date, remember?" She smiled tentatively up at him.

"Right." He could hear a sharp intake of breath behind him and ignored it. "We'll have to reschedule for later, Tammie. Right now is not a good time, come back in a few hours?"

"Sure…" She looked past him, looking less than pleased at the sight of the wife. "Maybe tonight isn't good, not if-"

"It's not what you're thinking, trust me." He ushered her out, following and closing the door behind them.

As soon as that door closed, Jane's quiet tears turned into outright sobs.


	8. Don't Close Your Eyes

**A/N: **This story seems to be taking a life of its own, when it was never meant to be much more than a way for me to get the Castiel/Jane bit out of my head. That's not working too well. Anyone who read the Croatoan chapters of End of Me might start noticing some deviations from what is written there and what is being written here in regards to Jane and Cas' relationship. Dean lovers, sorry he's such an ass!

And thank you for the R&amp;R's, as well as the follows and faves, you guys rock!

Also, I had a song stuck in my head while writing this.

* * *

**8: Don't Close Your Eyes**

When the hour had come and gone, Castiel was not surprised that Jane had not turned. His suspicion had been confirmed. She was immune to demonic possession, and apparently the Croatoan virus. Even if he had been about to blow her brains out, Dean would see this as a win, this would make her more valuable. Castiel was disgusted.

They had sat on the floor together. His back to the floor, with her in his lap. He had let her cry against his shoulder, not saying a word, just holding her. What was he going to say? Sorry seemed less than adequate, and he knew the human platitudes had never been meant for a situation like this.

"Cute. I guess she hasn't turned."

Castiel raised his face from Jane's lank hair, scowling up into Dean's impassive face. "No, she has not."

"Get her out of here."

Jane let out a quivering breath, slowly unfolding herself from Castiel's embrace and pushing herself to her feet. Not saying a word, she turned and walked towards the door.

"Jane?" Dean didn't bother glancing back, he knew she had stopped. "Bright and early tomorrow, we need to talk."

"Go to Hell, Winchester."

* * *

**Did** he go to her or did he let her work out whatever was going on behind those gray eyes alone? Castiel was torn. He could remain here, with whatever women decided they wanted his 'angelic' company… something Jane usually would have found amusing, but… his friend needed him. She needed him.

Well, he needed alcohol. She probably needed that too. He retrieved a few bottles of what could have been vodka, could have been tequila, the labels were long gone and the only way they'd know was by opening them. He glanced around the nearly empty room, frowning slightly before leaving. He didn't have to pay attention to where he was going, his feet knew the path from his cabin to Jane's quite well. He let his mind wander over the night. The losses they had suffered, Dean, the woman Dean had obviously been intent on bedding… and it all led back to Jane.

They were dealing with the end of the world and the extinction of their kind and all he could focus on was her, on a single woman. Maybe that was what being human was supposed to be about, caring about something, about someone, and even when everything was going to rot and ruin, still caring. Still focusing on the seemingly little things, the stuff that mattered. Without those people, without that caring, what the hell were they fighting for? Nameless faces? No, it was better to have a face in mind when out facing death, which they did frequently. A reason to come back, a reason to keep going on. Something other than anger, then vengeance, those were Dean's reasons, and a lot of good they had done him.

If Jane was surprised by his unannounced arrival at her door, she didn't show it. She just stepped away, letting him enter on his own.

Castiel closed the door behind him before depositing the bottles on her small table, turning to watch as she simply paced. "Jane…"

"I wish… I could forget tonight…" She said quietly, ceasing her pacing, though her eyes remained focused on the floor, dimly lit by the few, nearly spent candles scattered about the room. "Forget what happened, forget him… forget _her_…" She couldn't keep the bitterness from her tone. Her husband no longer loved her, no longer cared about her outside of her capacity to be useful, and was not hiding his dalliances with other women. She had known, on some level, that Dean was taking women to bed, it was Dean. But this was the first time she had been confronted with it.

"I… can't make you forget it Jane, not really… not permanently." He said after a long bout of silence. "But… I did bring liquor… that'll help you get through tonight." He, a former angel, was advocating getting drunk. He had fallen so far…

"That'll do."

* * *

"**You** got me somewhat drunk, Cas."

Castile smiled, his chin propped in his palm, elbow resting on her table, and regarded Jane with amusement. She was indeed 'somewhat' drunk. Her head was swaying slightly as she stared at the second bottle of what was tequila, they were halfway through it. She had procured a battered deck of playing cards, it had been missing a few, and they had played a few hands of what she called 'bastardized' rummy. He had even made her smile a few times. "You needed to relax."

She nodded in agreement, closing her eyes against the dizziness. When she opened them again, she flashed him a half grin. "True, I did."

He watched as she pulled up the sleeve of her flannel, taking in the bandages around her forearm. "How is it?"

"It'll heal, and be a lovely scar." She leaned forward in her chair, tugging off the top, revealing a dingy tank top beneath. She was a bit too hot for it anyway, and the breeze coming through the open windows felt great on her damp skin.

He instantly noticed the bruise covering her shoulder, frowning. "How'd that happen?"

Jane felt along the area with probing fingers, shrugging. "Probably during the attack." She poured them each another shot. If it hurt, she didn't feel it. Not right now, but in the morning she probably would, along with a splitting hangover.

After downing his shot, Castiel got up and walked around her. Without asking permission, he began examining the area. It looked like something had hit her, or she had shoulder tackled something, hard. Carefully, he began using his fingertips to massage the area.

Jane immediately relaxed into his touch. It wasn't the first time he had given her a massage, and she wouldn't lie, he was very skilled at it. Where he had learned this… she could guess, and a darkly amused smile tugged at her lips. The innocent little angel had definitely taken to human sexuality and sensuality like a duck to water.

Another round of silence ensued, though it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. She enjoyed the feel of being pampered, and when she felt his hands grasping the bottom of her tank, she shifted to allow him to pull it up and over her head.

"Stand up."

Not thinking twice, Jane did. Alcohol had dulled her usually over-thinking mind, and honestly, being in her inebriated state felt nice. She wasn't three sheets to the wind, black-out drunk, she'd never go down that road again, but… this level of intoxicated worked for her. She could navigate fairly well, if a bit clumsily, and wasn't seeing double. Turning, she stared the few inches up into Castiel's eyes, noting they were a shade or two darker than the norm.

Keeping his gaze on hers, he slowly moved his hands to her ribs, splaying his fingers against her skin. When Jane didn't tense or change her relaxed expression, he began skimming upwards, straying around her back while pulling her closer to him.

She realized that the slight difference in color wasn't due to the poor lighting of the dying candles but something else. Something she had not had aimed at her in quite some time. Just a hint of panic washed through her along with a wee bit of something she thought she'd never feel again. It was that wee bit that scared her. "Cas…"

He was already bending down. He expected her to turn her head, or slap him, probably both. But she did neither, she just remained frozen in place as his lips met hers. She didn't kiss him back, not at first, but Castiel hadn't expected her too. He was patient, and his patience was soon rewarded. Jane began tentatively returning the kiss, and he could feel the awkwardness emanating from her, like she had forgotten how this song and dance went. Not surprising, given that she probably hadn't been with anyone but Dean, and that had likely been… he felt sympathy for her when he did the mental math. That was a long time to go without affection.

Sober Jane wouldn't have let this happen. Sober Jane knew better. She knew she was 'programmed' as a one man woman, sadly. Somewhat drunk Jane, however, was battling herself. She was returning the kiss, yes. Castiel knew what he was doing, and his hands were roaming the expanse of her back, occasionally sliding down a palm to her backside. But it was Castiel, her friend… Dean's friend, a pot smoking, orgy loving, disgraced angel. There were too many other factors to consider. How people would react if word got out, the morning after weirdness, Dean… fucking Dean, why was she thinking about him?

"Enough, Jane." Castiel whispered, his mouth grazing her jaw, moving down her throat. "He's not here." He didn't have to be a mind reader to know where that sudden stiffness in her had come from.

"Cas…"

"If you want me to stop, to go," He whispered against her skin, planting a soft kiss against flesh where shoulder and throat connected. "Say so."

She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

He nodded, head brushing against her cheek and took her hands. He led her back, towards her bed. When he had come tonight, this had not been the plan, it had been the farthest thing on his mind. How they had gone from point A to the color purple was beyond him, but here it was, and he was taken aback by how much he wanted her. "Jane, open your eyes." He whispered, settling himself on the bed before guiding her down until she was straddling his lap.

She did, and he could see so much there. Confusion, desire, guilt, and fear. Why the fear, he wasn't sure. She had to know he wouldn't hurt her, not ever. He knew why there was guilt, and he felt a surge of annoyance that Dean, even now, was on her mind. "This… does not… I can go." He said after a moment, trying to keep his tone even.

She shook her head.

At that, he leaned forward to capture her mouth again.

This time, there was no hesitance on her part. She couldn't keep the guilt from simmering but there was nothing to be done about it, no logical reason for it anyway. She was a grown woman, with no technical strings attached, she could do want and who she pleased. And Castiel cared for her, who better to do it with? But still, it remained, nagging at her.

She was working his shirt off, even as her mind warred with itself, her own hands greedily exploring the skin she exposed. She could feel his breathing change, his own nimble fingers now unclasping her bra. When they were both topless, she felt him moving, eyes opening as she was pressed down into the mattress.

"Don't close your eyes, Jane." He was hovering over, running his fingers down along her cheek, her jaw. "Tonight, let it be me."


	9. Blame Game

**9: Blame Game**

"**Don't** open your eyes."

"That's not what you were saying last night."

Castiel smiled at the growl. "Trust me, it's bright outside." He had made that mistake already, and she had drank more than him, it'd hurt her worse. He had known Jane was awake when he felt her body, which had been sprawled across him, went from totally relaxed to tense. If she thought this was going to be awkward as morning after's tended to be, she was wrong. He wouldn't let it be. She had fallen asleep with her head on his chest and he had woken with his arms around her, her leg draped over his, her arm over him, her head still on him… Jane was a snuggling sort. He didn't let her immediately pull away from him when she shifted, obviously trying too. "In a hurry?"

Jane hesitated, considering it. This was going to be awkward only if she made it so. Cas was making it quite clear he wasn't having any issues in the sudden change their relationship had taken. And if she were to be honest with herself, she had… enjoyed last night. Sure, there had been some awkwardness on her part, she had felt rusty, out of practice as it were. The only man she had been with in years had been Dean, and it had felt wrong at first to find herself with someone different. Emphasis on at first. "No." She said finally, relaxing against him again.

He planted a kiss on the top of her head.

* * *

"**I** thought I told you, bright and early."

"And I know I told you to go to Hell." Given what had happened prior to sleeping with Castiel last night, Jane thought she might feel a little blue. Not so much. Yes, it hurt, but… it wasn't as raw as it had been. She was more resigned then anything. She had walked right by Dean, who apparently had been on his way to her cabin, rather glad he had had a late start himself. The last thing she wanted to deal with was him seeing Castiel asleep in her bed. Once her fallen angel had back asleep, she had gently pried herself away from him. Nature called and she was hungry, he would be hungry too. She figured she'd freshen up, empty out all that tequila straining her bladder, find something for the hangover, and grab breakfast from the canteen for her and Cas.

"Jane…" He expected her to be bitchy, he had almost killed her last night and then she got to meet his current flavor. None of that was a recipe for happy Jane. "Stop, damn it."

Jane kept on walking, reluctantly halting when he grabbed hold of her elbow. "Let go, Winchester."

"Look, I'm sor-" Dean seen her hand flying, knew what was coming, and didn't have time to move out of the way. Her palm connected rather hard with the side of his face and he could feel the skin raising almost instantly. "You hell bitch." He muttered, letting go.

"Screw you too." She shook her hand, trying to shake the sting from it. "You were going to _kill_ me."

"You're taking it to personal, Jane. You know damn well I'd of done the same to anyone else. I don't make exceptions."

"Like I said, screw you. You're the one who keeps pointing out I'm not _human_, I'm not like everyone else." She snarled, wrenching away from him when he tried taking her arm again. "You knew there was a damn good chance I wasn't going to be infected."

"Yes."

"And you still-"

"I don't make exceptions and I don't take chances. Deal with it." He was done trying to apologize and he wasn't about to bother faking feeling sorry over it. "You know how this works out, how it will always play out. You knew what you were signing up for."

"I did not sign up for this!"

"Then maybe," His voice dropped an octave. "You shouldn't have let Sam go to Detroit."

Jane had always wondered when he would throw that in her face, surprised he hadn't done it sooner. As far as any of them knew, up until Sam had given into Lucifer, she had been the only person to have contact with him. "Maybe," Her own voice had dropped in pitch as well, venom dripping from her words. "You should have been the bigger man and reached out to him."

His nostrils flared, face draining of color.

"You're the one who let him walk away. You're the one who refused to try repairing things. He was _your_ brother and _you failed him._ Not me." She had already dealt with her fair share of guilt concerning Sam. She had tried talking him out of his intentions, she had even met up with him once before the end. It had all been for nothing. If Dean had made the effort… things would have been different, she knew it. "You are the reason for all of this Dean. You and your damn pride."

She could not believe all that came pouring out of her mouth. But, it was all true, or at least it felt true. And if felt good saying it aloud, voicing the thoughts that had been in her head for quite some time now. It was like a weight had been lifted.

He obviously couldn't believe she had said it either, and his hand was moving up.

She didn't know if he would have hit her or not because before his hand could lash out it was caught in a firm grip. She looked beyond Dean to find Castiel standing there, looking ready to commit murder.

"I would not advise that." He said flatly.

Dean shook off the smaller man, glancing back and forth between the two. Castiel's cabin was up the path, Cas had come from down it, from Jane's. He snorted, fixing Jane with a dark stare before taking off the way he had come. They'd deal with this later.

"What was that about?" Castiel asked, moving to stand by her, watching their fearless, pissed off leader storming away.

"Sam."


	10. A Day in the Life

**10: A Day in the Life **

**Word** of the leader's estranged wife and the leader's former best friend knocking boots spread quick, as vicious gossip was wont to do. Castiel already had quite the reputation for being a 'ladies' man', with his love guru crap and orgies, not necessarily a horrible reputation, he didn't catch shit for it. Her, on the other hand, was just known as the weird, psychic sort of wife of Dean. The pair of them, spending a few nights together, had ignited the gossip.

Life went on, with or without the whispered rumors, and nothing seemed like it had really changed between her and Cas. He was still smoking weed, still associating with his groupies, and still bringing her food whenever he thought she was starving herself. They were still friends, still close, they weren't making things awkward and that worked for her.

Dean was taking her out quite often now. She knew how to use a gun, had her psychic ability, and was now apparently both demon and virus proof. She was an asset and he was using her like one. She was also getting her ass kicked. She had been 'infected' at least twice more since the original bite.

What sucked about the Croats, the infected, was that while they were subject to seriously murderous rages, they hadn't lost any of their reasoning abilities, they just tended to focus them on how to get and infect, or kill, other people.

Just because she couldn't be infected did not mean she enjoyed the attempts being made. She had had blood hocked in her mouth so far and been slashed with a knife coated in lovely virus germs. She was genuinely more worried about infection from the wound than turning into a rage freak. "Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked tiredly, holding a relatively clean towel to her collarbone, where said knife slash wound was located, and bleeding.

"Still looking." Dean glanced over his shoulder at her, frowning slightly. "Do a perimeter check. If we're clear, we'll hole up here for the night and head back to camp in the morning."

"Gotcha, boss." She mock saluted, sort of, before picking her way out of the destroyed, once upon a time, office. Dean hadn't bothered telling her why they had ventured to this town, what was left of it, and she didn't bother asking. She didn't care. She knew why she was there and just did her job.

The place looked like an old warzone, at one time it had probably been an active warzone. Clearly some sort of militia had come through and tried cleaning house. They'd gotten a good number of the Croats but not all, obviously, or else she wouldn't be stemming the blood from her new future scar. She finished her walk throughout the building, not that it was overly large to begin it, sensed and found nothing.

"Anyone hurt?" She asked as she stepped down into what was once a lobby, taking note of the barricades and blockages covering anything and everything that could be used to get in.

"Nothing serious." Castiel had already gone over all that fun stuff. Injuries were minor, and most of it was due to panic and not paying attention, fortunately nobody had been infected. "You look like you need a med kit."

"I do, after I do a check outside."

"I'll walk with you." He bent down to retrieve his rifle, shouldering it. "You probably can't aim for shit right now."

Probably not. She followed him out the side door, which seemed to be the only way in or out, and came to a halt. The sun would be setting soon, and the area around them looked like hell. This town had gone through the wringer. "We'll never win this."

"No." He said just as softly as she had. "We won't."

* * *

"**Are** you any good at this?"

"Uh, I'm not bad."

Jane frowned, eyeballing the curved needle Castiel was preparing. Stitches, she needed stitches, and she wasn't able to do it herself. Ideally, Dean would have been able to do it, Lord knew he had years of experience, but Dean was still sorting through what was left of the offices. A few people were in the lobby, pulling guard duty, while others hunted for supplies. They were sitting off in what used to be a break room, maybe, Jane with her back to a wall, Castiel in front of her with a first aid kit. "Don't suppose there's anything with drinkable alcohol in that kit?"

"No…"

"Well hell's bells, this is going to suck."

"Deep breath, Jane." He advised, leaning in.

Jane did as told, closing her eyes.

"You're lucky this isn't as deep as it could have been." He remarked, getting to work. "Could have been worse."

If she were one of the poor soul's susceptible to Croat infection, yeah, a lot worse indeed. "See, it seems that way, but at the moment, having a needle sliding in and out of my skin seems pretty bad."

"Baby."

"Angel bitch."

"Ouch." He was grinning though, glancing up at her to see her eyes were half-open, and she seemed amused as well. "Words hurt, Jane."

"You'll survive." She muttered, leaning her head back against the wall.

They were both quiet as he finished up, eventually taping a bit of gauze over the area. "Done."

She nodded, not bothering to open her eyes again. "I don't sense anything around. Think it's safe to sleep?"

Castiel considered that, finally pushing himself to his feet to go out into the lobby, see who was on watch. He spotted Dean, bobbing his head in acknowledgement before going back into the other rom. "You can sleep." He informed her, dropping back down alongside her.

"Sweet." Jane leaned into him, letting her head drop on his shoulder. "Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"Is this okay?"

He couldn't keep himself from chuckling softly, resting his own head on top of hers. "Yeah, Jane, it's okay."

* * *

"**Come** with me."

Jane had just emerged from the lesser ruined bathroom, where she had enjoyed a morning piss in a broken toilet and utilized the sort of working tap water to do a sponge bath. She looked at Dean, then around the lobby. People were sort of waking up, outside the current guards, and a glance off to the side room showed that Castiel was still asleep. "Where too?" She asked finally.

"There's a pharmacy across the street. I figured we could go have a look before we head back to camp."

She nodded, taking a moment to go retrieve her gun before joining him outside. She immediately wished she had thought to grab an extra shirt or something, it was getting cold out. "Winter will be here soon."

"Yeah." He wasn't looking forward to that. If this winter was anything like last year, they would be screwed. They had just barely managed to make supplies last, and venturing out when there was nobody left to plow the roads, was pure hell. "We're going to have to make more trips out over the next month and really boost up what we got." They had more people at the compound this winter then they had had last year.

She mentally reviewed the things they would need, groaning. "We might have to venture into one of the actual cities, Dean." She said reluctantly. Sure, civilization still existed, but even the major hubs were still risky as hell. The Croatoan virus was liable to break out, not to mention the fact that most high ranking officials these days were either possessed by demons or had demons surrounding them.

"That's what I'm thinking. We might as well start here." He gestured to the doors they were about to enter. "I seen a few other stores on our way into town. Maybe we could do a sweep of some neighborhoods…"

"Maybe the ones that don't look like they've already been raided." She let him go in first, closing her eyes and scanning for weird displacements, getting nothing. "I think we're clear."

"Good." But he didn't lower his gun.

Jane headed immediately for the back, stopping long enough to retrieve a few discarded paper bags. If there was any medicine left, she was taking it. Expiration dates meant dick at this point, sometimes you just had to work with what you had. She figured Dean would be going for the food, not surprised at all when he eventually showed up with a shopping cart full of what had been left on the shelves. That was a lot stale potato chips… She showed him her own bags, knowing there was still the other aisles to hit. Cough syrups, creams, soaps –oh God, she wanted shampoo-, personal items, all that fun stuff… "Did you let anyone know we were coming over here?"

"Yeah, we'll fill the carts, plant them by the doors and bring a truck over."

"Good." She put the bags into the cart, eyeballing the nearly bare shelves.

"You and Castiel a thing now?"

"Really?"

"Yeah." He followed her out of the pharmacist area to the nearby diabetes and diet foods section, helping her gather what remained. "I know it's not my business but… it is my business."

"You don't want me, Dean. I think that's been made quite clear."

"Admit it, Jane, from my perspective, it's shady. He's an angel and you were hand-crafted by God."

"Former, and didn't know." She was moving onto cough, cold, and allergies.

"Maybe, anyways… oh hey…"

Jane watched as he slipped around the corner, following his gaze and shook her head. He had found the magazine rack, and the black plastic covered 'adult' magazines. While he browsed for spank bank material, she continued plundering. When she heard a chuckle, she knew he had probably found Busty Asian Beauties… some things never changed.


	11. Letting Go

**11:**** Letting Go**

"**Castiel!"** Jane screamed out the warning a moment to late. She watched, gray eyes widening in horror, as he took a step forward before plummeting out of sight. Her Knowing had been nagging at her but she hadn't been able to figure out what it was directing her to until just now. Ignoring Dean's commands to be quiet, she took off running throughout the brush, holstering her 9mm. The only thing she had sensed in these woods was this. They were hunting, looking for something that wasn't infected, trying to bolster their stores for the upcoming cold season.

"Damn it, Jane!" Dean cursed, following her. He figured since she wasn't panicking about anything but this, they were probably safe. If not, he was going to shoot her for putting her lover over the rest of them.

Jane skidded to a stop at the drop off, staring down. "Cas?"

He let out a low moan of pain but managed to flash a thumbs up.

She could see his foot was twisted at an angle it was not meant to be and took inventory, finally turning and beginning the climb down. "Dean, his foot is broken." She called up, knowing this wasn't the way to get Castiel back up. "Find a way around."

Dean nodded, watching as she scaled her way down to Castiel, surveying the surrounding land. "All right, we'll meet you down there."

Jane didn't say a word, busy focusing on not falling and breaking her own limbs. Once her feet hit solid ground, she moved to crouch besides the now literal fallen angel. "Want me to knock you out?"

"Considering. It." He managed through grit teeth. "Never broke something before." That he couldn't immediately fix at any rate.

"Welcome to being human." She was examining him, frowning. "We're going to have to straighten this out. You're going to hate me."

He nodded, believing her.

* * *

"**Hold** him down."

"Trying, Jane."

She would have killed for an actual medic, someone who genuinely knew what they were doing opposed to her, reading from old manuals. "Cas… c'mon…" She muttered, glancing up at him from her place at the end of the bed. They had done their best to set things in the woods two days ago, but it had become glaringly obvious it had been done wrong. Well, she wasn't a damn doctor. She had taken the last day to pour through all the medical manuals they had, finally prepared to do the really shitty to her lover. They were going to have to break his foot all over again.

"Don't we have anything for pain?"

"Whiskey." She glanced at Dean, who simply nodded, walking out the door.

"Being. Mortal. SUCKS."

Chuck laughed nervously from his place at Castiel's head, nodding. "Tell me about it. I got poison ivy on my-"

"Shut up, Chuck." Jane ordered, not about to relive that moment.

"Here." Dean was behind her and she reached back automatically to take the flask. "You go hold him up there, the guys and I will do this."

"Dean, it has to be done just right or-"

"I got it, Jane." He flashed her what was meant to be a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine."

"You know," She moved to take hold of Cas' head. "I get that this hurts but you're seriously blowing it out of proportion. It's just a foot, not a leg or something."

Even Dean was looking at her funny. Broken bones period hurt, though with pain medication, it was manageable. They had jack shit for this and they weren't sure just how many were broken. This was also Castiel's first time dealing with something like this… nah, she was right. He was being a pansy. "One. Two-"

Jane and Chuck both gripped Castiel, holding him down.

"Go."

Even she winced at the weird sounds, not to mention the angel's cursing. "Here." She guided the flask to his lips, half smiling when he tried chugging at it. "Pussy."

His eyes narrowed at her.

"All right, let's get it finished up. Some of us actually have work to get back too."

* * *

"**You** were lucky." Jane said later that night, sitting beside Castiel's bed, sponging his forehead off with a cool rag. "You could have done more than broken your foot and concussed yourself."

"It feels like I did more." He was quite a bit milder now. Likely due to the weed Jane had brought him from his cabin. "I don't want to know what other broken bones feel like."

"Worse."

He groaned, turning his face away from her. "I should have stopped."

"No kidding." She gently pressed her fingers against his unshaven cheek, smiling slightly when he reluctantly faced her again. "Feeling awkward?"

"I was a… pussy." He made a face, obviously not liking that word in reference to himself. "After everything the rest of you have been through, and dealt with…"

"Awww… Cas…" She was trying not to laugh at him, honestly she was, but he was pouting now. "So you're embarrassed about it hurting. Life will go on. At least you didn't have to deal with poison ivy down your pants like some others did. _They_ whined."

He felt marginally better. "Are you going to be my nurse?"

"For a little while."

"High heels and a tight, white uniform?"

"Oh sure, if that's what you want."

"Nothing underneath?"

"Of course."

This was what Dean had walked in on. Castiel, his used to be best buddy, and Jane, his sort of wife. She was leaning over Cas, both of them smiling as they flirted and it irritated him. Especially programmed for him… yeah, right. God had a sense of humor, that was obvious.

For a moment, he considered interrupting them, and then… then he just stopped. He was done with her. What was between them was long gone, he had seen to that. He didn't trust her, not when it came to himself, not on a personal level. He felt like she was a spy, sent to infiltrate his ranks and sway him, or something. Or maybe she was still all wrapped up in the mess that was Sam and he couldn't let that go either.

Regardless, done. They were done. But could he really make her miserable? He had put her through hell and back, sometimes just out of spite. Ever since that day, she had never stopped professing her innocence, her lack of awareness of her shady origins, and even now, so much time later, she hadn't changed her tune. Something had to give. They were in the end times and this had to stop, his anger towards her.

It was time he started letting go.


End file.
